


Useful

by antlersev



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 10:34:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17785751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antlersev/pseuds/antlersev
Summary: Medic seems unusually quiet after a battle. Heavy goes to see him to see what's wrong.For the 2019 TF2 Blind Date event!





	Useful

**Author's Note:**

> A short story for @Mnyeh-like on Tumblr for the TF2 Valentines Blind Date event! Hope you like!

"I am fully charged!"

The battlefield was raging. Rockets rained from the sky, stickybombs exploded underfoot, and knives were firmly embedded in backs. Amongst the carnage, a duo made its way to the final control point, held together by a beam of healing.

"Now Doktor!" 

Revving up his minigun, the Heavy leapt around the corner, feeling the absolute rush of the Übercharge taking hold as the sound of sentries locking onto a target beeped in warning. Nothing stood a chance against the invincible heavy and his faithful Medic. One by one the duo mowed downed sentries and enemy fighters, leaving nothing behind. As the bright charge began to flash signaling time was up, the rest of their team stormed the point, capturing it and winning the day. 

The team laughed and cheered as they made their way back to respawn to clock out for the day. Heavy was always rather quiet, and today was no different, despite pats on his back and calls of "great job!"

He placed his bandolier in his locker and whispered a sweet goodbye to Sasha before closing the door and turning to leave with the rest of the mercenaries. It was then he noticed the Medic. The doctor was moving rather stiltedly and was unusually silent, sparking some concern in the Russian. He didn't even take off his large coat-- simply closing his locker door and walking off.

Something was definitely wrong.

 

\-----

 

Heavy wasn't the best with words, even in his native tongue. Actions, in his eyes, were what truly mattered. So when the doctor didn't show up for dinner, Heavy decided to bring something to him in hopes of cheering up his partner. With one of his prized sandviches on a small plate, the Russian made his way to the doctor's office. 

The double doors were always unlocked so patients could come right in, but Heavy always felt inclined to knock. It was the doctor's space after all. 

"Come in," a voice called.

Heavy pushed the doors open with his arms and entered the office. A few doves fluttered around the room at his entrance. As much of a health hazard as they were, the whole team enjoyed them. 

As the birds settled, Heavy spotted the doctor standing over his desk with several papers scattered about. The Russian walked up to the desk.

"I brought sandvich for Doktor," The large man said.

The Medic glanced up, his glasses low on his nose, "Ah, thank you my friend. You can just set it there," he said as he gestured to the far side of his desk.

The Heavy set it down, and glanced at the papers. They were covered in scribbles of weapons and devices, all surrounded with the Medic's German scrawl, which would have been illegible even if they were in a language the Heavy could read. 

"What is Doktor doing?"

The Medic scowled, "Trying to design something new."

"Such as?"

"A new medigun. Maybe a new syringe gun," the Medic pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes.

"But current Medigun works fine,"

The doctor sighed, setting his glasses back on his nose, "Well I just wanted to design something a little more.…useful."

The Heavy lifted a large brow, "More useful than Medigun? It makes us invincible. Doktor also has Kritzkrieg, Quick-Fix, and Vaccinator. All work fine and all are very useful."

The Medic set his palms on his desk and stared back down at the papers, "Yes, yes. But I need something that makes _me_ more useful. Maybe something I can shoot with as well…?" he trailed off, moving some papers around 

The Russian was baffled, "But Doktor is already useful. He is most important teammate that keeps us alive."

"Heavy, you don't have to be nice. I know I tend to drag the team."

"Doktor, team would be lost without you."

"The team would be fine without me."

Heavy was perplexed. Who had put this idea in the doctor's head? Did somebody say something cruel? Did something happen he didn't know about? 

"Is Doktor alright?"

Medic sighed heavily, dropping onto his nearby chair. 

"Heavy. We won today, thanks to you. Without your powerful weapon and tremendous endurance and strength, we wouldn't have been able to destroy those sentries. And then there's me," he threw his arms out to his sides, "I stand behind you and point the Medigun your way. I'm a glorified version of one of Engineer's dispensers. Anyone can do what I do," Medic dropped his hands with a sigh, "so, I'm here trying to be useful."

Shocked into silence, the Heavy watched as the Medic slumped in his seat. 

Actions were what mattered.

Heavy walked around the desk and leaned over, placing a large hand on the side of Medic's face and watching as the doctor looked up in surprise. He tilted his head and leaned in to place a kiss on Medic's lips. He stayed for a second before pulling back.

"Doktor is important to me."

Medic blinked rapidly in disbelief. In the silence, Heavy began to grow concerned that he misread their budding relationship, but Medic put those fears to rest as he surged up and captured the Russian's lips into another kiss. The doctor then broke the kiss and threw his arms around the larger man's broad shoulders.

"Ich liebe dich."

"Ya lyublyu tebya."

Medic's arms tightened their hold as he smiled into Heavy's neck.

"Thank you for the sandvich."

Heavy chuckled, "Is no problem. Is least I can do for my other half."

**Author's Note:**

> I had fun with this!! I projected my feelings about playing Medic a little bit haha  
> Thank you for letting me join, and happy Valentines Day!


End file.
